


don't play with fire

by damnneovelvet



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Divination, Enemies to Friends, Eventual Happy Ending, Fire Magic, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic and Science, Markren are platonic, Missing Persons, Non-Linear Narrative, Occult, Psychotropic Drugs, Tags Are Hard, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnneovelvet/pseuds/damnneovelvet
Summary: As the world crumbles to ashes, only dreams stand as your guide.//alternatively: two flame bearers, one spirit medium, two men with dreams, and five throbbing hearts.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun & Mark Lee, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: NCTV Secret Santa 2020





	don't play with fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cityrisings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cityrisings/gifts).



> to the recipient: I tried writing you a fic based on your wishes. I really did. but I failed, so here you go—parts of all your prompts rolled into one. I don't know how much you're going to enjoy this, but I hope you do.
> 
> 上 : past timeline, chronological  
> 中 : third narrative, not chronological  
> 下 : current timeline, picks up a few months after 上, chronological
> 
> unbeta'd and unedited. I'll get around to that someday.

**中**

**Impromptu Lab Shut Down, Officials Refuse to Comment**

By John J. Suh, Neo Public Press.

* * *

NEO CITY: Earlier this Wednesday, a government owned laboratory in the west suburban ends was declared closed by the state authorities after unapproved production of some medicinal drugs. This was recorded during a mandatory check and immediately filed for review. Sources have said that these drugs have disputed patents which could have caused severe legal concerns.

The executives and chief scientist of the laboratory are unavailable for comment. When asked, an interning scientist, Kim (24), said, "Our in-charge reassured us that by the time drug production is complete, our lawsuits will be settled. Unfortunately, it [seems] that the court hearings were shifted to a date further in the future." Upon further investigation, the local police found that the half-processed drugs were disposed of with caution and assistance from the local body of the 'Preserve the Earth' association. 

No further statements have been made by any officials and the refusal stems from their alleged duty to protect the advancement of government research from harm. The facility will now be in disuse until further notice.

**下**

Mark Lee wakes up to smothering heat. His skin prickles with the sensation of tiny flames licking him from the inside and he would have the presence of mind to do something about it on an ordinary day. His head reels with an onslaught of broken images. His calves sting with uncontrolled fire under the blanket and he struggles to kick it away but the fuzziness in his vision disorients him. 

His fingers twist into the fabric as he convulses once, then twice, before the heat flares for a second. 

There are flames all around. His shoes are tight—but he isn't wearing any—and he looks down to see his canvas sneakers swim in and out of focus. The stone floor beneath them is hot. Too hot. The blood gushes in his ears. He hears nothing but the crackling of wood and the thumping of his heart. Mark feels his back touching the mattress but at the same moment, he is dressed in his university robes which have caught fire at the hem. They sizzle—orange and gold—as they try to eat him but fail. Mark cannot burn. And yet, he stands at the vortex of a conflagration, like he is to tame an unruly beast with the sheer magic that resides at his fingertips. It entraps him so that all he sees is fire. There is barely any space to walk and the heat leaves his chest heaving. There is a ceiling but he sees no walls, there is soot in his chest and soot on his trembling palms, and when he calls for a familiar name his voice is drowned out by the roaring flames.

His heart shudders. The fire goes wilder the longer he stands there and sweat beads down his temples to drench his collar. 

He gasps. 

The chill of his bedroom washes over his skin uncomfortably as he jolts up. All he sees is black and lighter spots running for a few seconds. He shouldn't have straightened up so fast. He takes in a deep breath, one sweaty palm flattened in his chest and the other on his stomach, and follows it with another until his lungs feel lighter. 

As soon as his legs gain feeling, he scrambles out of bed.

The water is ice cold as he splashes it onto his face and the ceramic of the sink grows hot under his overheated skin. Mark doesn't bother to look at his reflection—he knows he probably looks like death warmed over—and he closes the door to the bathroom behind him with no strength.

He dreamed. He dreamed and most of his dreams are vague, have been since they first started, but he is paralysed to the core with fear. His chest hurts. 

Mark cannot burn. He cannot die because of flames because he has magic in his blood and the power to control fire fine-tunes over years of education. Nothing can save him though, if he decides he wants to. The smoke from the dream still feels like it weighs heavy at the back of his throat and he breaks into a coughing fit.

He draws his curtains and pulls off his violet robes from the back of his desk chair to throw them into his laundry hamper.

He's going to go mad if this continues.

"Fuck," he whispers to himself, "fuck. This is terrible."

Swayed by his last dream, Mark can't recall the contents of the ones he had earlier that night. He has nothing to fill in his dream journal today morning. It makes him anxious, he had been getting better at remembering odd tidbits from his visions but now his arms are aching and his neck is tight with straining muscles.

An hour later, when he feels considerably better and has downed three glasses of iced water, he starts recalling. He remembers glimpses of giving things to people—items from his bedroom to his closest friends—without saying what they're meant for. There's not much to work with. He puts down his pen and rolls his shoulders when he spots it.

A closed pack of white chalk.

Mark has no clue what it's doing sitting on his bookshelf as if it owns the place. Proud and full. What he does know is that it should be given to Jisung. For what reason, he isn't sure, but it needs to be in his hands for things to work out the way they are meant to. 

He wants to curl up in his bed and scream.

**中**

The following document sits on a locked, glass shelf, bound in thick envelope paper and cursed string, in the Chairman's office at Neo Witchcraft University. It remains inaccessible to everyone but the police and higher ranks of security forces:

This document is part of the investigation archives of the Tripswitch Incident, 20XX. The investigation was led by Agent Byun Baekhyun under supervision of the Senior Agent Kim Junmyeon. The interviews were personally conducted by Byun. The attached images are all provisions of the interviewee and the institution where the prime suspect finished education prior to their employment at the [redacted] Laboratory, [redacted] city. This file is the first of many that have been compiled as evidence to provide reliable testimony on the character of the prime suspect. These interviews were held in the Dean’s office at [redacted] University over the course of 8 days before the commencement of the new academic semester.

* * *

**Document Code: KDYX-201-1996002-14297-JJH**

**Dated: 02nd August, 20XX**

**Title: Tripswitch Incident Character Witness 01**

* * *

The recorded conversation is a taped interview with Jeong Jaehyun (24), professor of Divination and Clairvoyance at the government university for witchcraft in [redacted] city. 

**Interviewer’s notes:**

Jeong is the prime suspect’s rumoured best friend. He is a healthy man with an air of intelligence and knowing. His employer has stated before that Jeong is exceptionally gifted at the divinatory art of Sortilege, which can potentially disrupt this interview. In normal circumstances, a man such as Jeong would prove to be a tricky witness, however, the fragile leads we have gathered at the moment have led us to hold this interview. Jeong appeared to be surprised when he was first summoned to the office despite being notified of the nature of this meeting and the questions a week prior.

* * *

**Page 1.**

_ » Can you clearly, with as much detail as you can recall, tell us when you saw Kim [redacted] last? _

April 6th, this year. I remember the date because the final graduation assignment for my designated student group was held on that day. As I've said in my original statement, I was travelling with eight exam students and seven volunteers. There was supposed to be one more volunteer, but they were hospitalised just days before we were set to leave and no one was available to fill in. 

That was the last time I saw [redacted]. Before that, I hadn't seen him for about… seven months. Maybe more. It came as a surprise when I saw his face. I was half-expecting bad news by the time the new year came—he had never been out of contact this way. No mutual friends knew where he had gone or what he was doing. 

[Jeong's voice stutters here. He sounds unable to continue answering, yet, he clears his throat twice and gathers himself.]

It was a sunny day, as was required for the assignment to proceed—a possessed castle was to be burnt down—and he appeared out of nowhere. 

This was near our lodgings in Huifu, on the outskirts of the village we were sent to.

There's not much else I remember. It has been nearly five months. The students were nervous, and usual extremely fidgety because graduation assignments hold a lot of prestige. This particular batch of students was very bright and their assignments were accordingly difficult, which took my attention for the most part.

When [redacted] showed up, I was lost and couldn't think of anything. He came out of the bushes in the evening, didn't say a word to me, and he had soot on his face and arms. He was wearing this tattered lab coat, the kind he used to wear when he still worked at the lab, and I just wanted to help him. I ran to the lodgings to grab towels and water. When I came back, he was gone.

_ » Is that all? _

Yes.

_ » In your earlier testimony, you said that when you saw him, you ran back to the lodgings. You maintain this stance even now. Did anyone see you or do you think anyone else could have seen Mr. Kim in that duration? _

I was seen by my students, Mr. Lee, Mr. Lee and Mr. Huang. I am directly responsible for a certain Mr. Lee's well-being after an ordeal occurred last year when he was ideally supposed to graduate. He can testify for me, though I suspect he might be biased. Mr. Huang and I have had no correspondence before the assignment and after it. You can check with him if you must.

As for [redacted]… I'm not sure. He was standing in the open, right next to the fence. I believe someone else must have seen him, but I'm not sure because no one said a word. 

When I think of it, other than Mr. Lee's batch mates, no one else would remember what he looked like. Even if they saw him, there's a chance they didn't know it was him. If they saw a man in a condition like his, they would remember, but nobody said a word and there were many students with me. It was really odd.

**Page 2.**

_ » What was your relationship with Mr. Kim like? How did you meet? _

We were good friends in high school. We always ended up in the same class, in the same section, and we got along okay. I would share my thoughts with him and he would listen, sometimes he would nag me. He was always so responsible.

I saw a better friend in him than he saw in me.

He had his own set of friends outside of school, in his neighbourhood, and we never hung out after school hours. The most we ever did was visit the library together before exams and I clearly remember spending the night at school with all the boys in our class before the cultural festival in our last year. [Jeong coughs.] I'm sorry. [redacted] didn't stay back with us. He was caring, but always detached.

Our friendship started in earnest when I was accepted at this university and ran into him at the freshmen orientation…

**上**

They say that two flame bearers will always bond over the passions they share in their hearts. Mark has found it to be true so far, especially given the friendships he made through first year, and he believes it will also hold true when he meets his designated junior. 

Mark's own assigned senior had been kind and pleasant—still is, she keeps checking in on him with a text once every few weeks—which makes him that much more enthusiastic to be the perfect senior himself. He's barely a second year, with mud-stained, crimson robes, and worn sneakers, but he feels as if he's been living at university all his life. He does miss home. It's a feeling, that warmth, that comfort, that belongingness despite having a troubled childhood with rather disapproving parents. Even then, staying in his dorm room with a quirky lava lamp has its own merits. 

He takes what he gets and runs with it. After all, that is who Mark Lee has grown to become.

"Are you sure you want an understudy?" Yukhei asks at the breakfast table one morning.

"It's tradition." Mark shrugs. 

The cafeteria is buzzing with energy. New students are a big thing at Neo Witchcraft University, particularly because there are barely a hundred new ones every year. 

Mark remembers shifting to the campus last year, lost and mildly disappointed because magic universities should be made of ancient stone and blessed sand, not miles of metal and glass. It's too modern for anyone who grew up away from Neo. Mark sometimes wishes he had stayed in Canada, only if to enjoy striding through haunted castle hallways and tickling statues to open secret passages. 

He wonders how many foreign students are going to stand at the gates and lose the spark in their eyes when they realise NWU looks as non-magical as it can get.

Mark blames those wizard movies. He thought he would have meals in great halls decked with floating candles through higher education. Now all he has is an empty bank account and tables that look like they were imported from a defunct, posh school somewhere in Atlantis. He taps his nails against the wood and waits for the buzzer to tell him his food is ready.

"You had the highest scores last year, bro," Yukhei says, fixing Mark with a complicated stare, "I'm dead sure they could make an exception for you." 

"I don't want that. Heaven knows, I wouldn't have made it through first sem if Mina weren't there for me. Maybe, I'll do some good to the new kid, who knows?" 

Suddenly, the speakers blare to life. 

"All first years and second years are requested to head to the gymnasium for the orientation ceremony. I repeat—"

"But my food isn't even ready yet!" Yukhei exclaims, one of the many in the room who grumble sleepily.

"We can just ask them to pack it up."

"And eat where? In the middle of a fucking ceremony?"

They end up leaving the cafeteria without food and with a promise from their favourite meal lady that she'll serve them hot rice bowls if they come back as soon as they're done with their duties. 

In a flurry of students, with their fingers intertwined and Mark's crimson robes clashing with Yukhei's aquamarine ones, they walk to their destination while snickering over a bickering couple that walks right in front of them.

But this day is different.

Mark knew it the moment he woke up that this day was going to mark something monumental in his life. He has no idea what. Mark is just a simple flame bearer with a strong gut feeling but he has never been wrong—not once in the nearly 21 years he has been alive. 

He waves to some classmates as they shuffle into the bleachers and wait for their teachers to show up. 

Yukhei nudges him then, and points to the section next to theirs, "Do you think one of them is going to be your understudy?"

Mark looks over and barely holds back a gasp. The mix of new students are busy wringing their hands with nerves or giggling in smaller groups but the unusually high number of red and yellow leave him—and Mark doesn't notice, but also most of his batchmates—stunned. There's more than a hundred of them for sure and they are loud. 

"I think they could be yours. So many light magic students… wow." 

"I know right…" Yukhei trails off.

It is in that moment, that Mark  _ feels _ his ears burn for the first time in his life for a reason other than being on fire. His chest constricts when his eyes meet those eyes. Doe-shaped and dark, with excitement simmering beneath the surface. They look at each other a second too long to dismiss and unable to turn away, Mark smiles. He receives one in return with the gentle tilt of a head. Mark's gut coils in on itself. The freshman turns away to talk to someone else, and he throws his head back as he cackles, his laughter filling the hall louder than the screaming of an omen. He doesn't look back. Mark keeps looking at the way his white t-shirt peeks from over the hem of his crimson robes. A fellow flame bearer.

An hour later, when Mark leaves the gymnasium, he doesn't have Yukhei at his side. All promises of undelivered breakfasts are forgotten. His assigned junior for the semester falls into step with him, lips pulled into a sharp smile and soft hair fluttering in the breeze. 

"I saw you kept staring at me earlier," His voice is husky—Mark doesn't know how to process it—just the right amount of breathy and teasing, "did you know I was assigned to you?"

"I didn't, actually," Mark answers.

But the truth is, that he should have known. And if he didn't know, he was still wishing.

"Then why? Do you like my face? My hair?" He laughs again. Freely. Mark speeds up, his robes threatening to catch between his legs.

It is an undeniable truth that two flame bearers will bond over warmth and heat. It is a doctrine passed on in their blood, in the very soul of their magic, and humans can lie but the universe can never. Mark Lee finds that bonding with his junior is easy. It's as easy as breathing because they don't need any shared passions.

Lee Donghyuck becomes the passion of his heart effortlessly.

*****

**Author's Note:**

> this has been rated teen and up but the rating might increase to mature depending on what course the story takes.
> 
> <3 subscribe to the fic for updates and leave a kudos if you've reached here.


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